


Because the Night

by Anonymous



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bard is loud as fuck :D, Elven Wine, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hobbit Kink Meme, Kink Meme, M/M, Rimming, Voice Kink, Wine, bottom!Bård, hobbit kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3587127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt Fill for the Hobbit Kink Meme on LJ.</p><p>Original Prompt was: Bard has never been with another male before, so when he's with Thranduil (bottom!Bard please), he can't help but be super responsive (loud, squirming, bucking up, etc.). He's super embarrassed about it afterwards, but Thranduil loved it and shows Bard just how much he loved it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Because the Night**

**~~**

Take me now baby here as I am   
Pull me close, try and understand   
Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe   
Love is a banquet on which we feed   
  
Come on now try and understand   
The way I feel when I'm in your hands   
Take my hand come undercover   
They can't hurt you now,   
Can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now   
Because the night belongs to lovers   
Because the night belongs to lust   
Because the night belongs to lovers   
Because the night belongs to us

..Patti Smith – Because the Night..

**~~**

*****

It was the night after Dáin’s coronation, and how it was custom for the dwarves, lots of ale and mead was involved in the following festivities. The potent drinks made sure that nobody who attended the feast was sober by any means. One by one, the guests tumbled outside into the cold winter night, leaving the lonely mountain behind. Despite the Elvenking’s worries, the festivities had been extraordinary pleasant, not least because the new King of Dale shared his company for most of the time. Had Thranduil always been hesitant, nearly dismissive towards the mortal race of men, he had taken a strange fascination with the dark-haired Dragonslayer.

They have been flirting ever since Thranduil had arrived with his massive host in the ruins of Dale, both strangely attracted to the other from the beginning, but nothing apart from not-so-secret glances and smirks had ever happened between them.

Given the circumstances of war and death it was no surprise - but now that the dragon was dead and peace had been negotiated between the different races, the time had finally come to deepen their relationship. Dáin’s coronation and especially the upcoming night, was the perfect opportunity to do so and Thranduil had donned his best garments for the feast, rather to impress the man he greatly desired to bed this very night than to pay his homage to the new King under the mountain.

Long had Thranduil pondered his thoughts how to proceed with his wooing but the ale Bard consumed in the past hours threw everything he had planned into disarray. More than once, the man’s hand brushed distinctly against his thighs beneath the table, lingering there a moment too long to be accidental. And every motion of Bard’s fingers was rewarded with a self-satisfactory smirk of the elf; it was obvious where this very night would end, and soon neither of them cared that they were not alone in the grand hall of Erebor, that watchful eyes might observe their hidden touches and smiles.

 

~~

Darkness had long descended over the snow-covered ruins of Dale when Thranduil bid his farewell to the new king under the mountain and Bard followed shortly after, just as they have discussed previously over several glasses of mead and ale. Whereas the elf was hardly affected by the potent spirits, being accustomed to his own Dorwinion, Bard was not sober by any means. He was greatly enjoying himself as he began to touch the Elvenking’s backside not as innocently as they were wandering through the snow, Thranduil’s arm wrapped around the man’s waist to support his steps.

“Are we a little eager, King of Dale?” he commented with a hearty laugh as Bard’s hands squeezed one of his perfectly-shaped cheeks through the fabric.

“Do you mind?” the man retorted with a broad smile, squeezing a little harder.

“No!” Thranduil stated and before Bard could reply anything or continue the journey of his hand, he was spun around. Within the blink of an eye he found himself pressed against the stone wall by the elf’s strong hands, which seemed to be everywhere all of a sudden.

“Would **_you_** mind?” Thranduil breathed, his eyes twinkling mischievously in the twilight of the moon as he brought his lips towards the other who stared at him with wide eyes. The way he spoke was as if he was speaking directly into the ear of his lover, the one he desired. It made Bard’s stomach flutter for some reason he could not completely explain. All of a sudden he was nervous, almost trembling under those jewel-adorned hands. Their eyes met, and it became glaringly apparent that this was the first time they had been alone together for many days.

“No .. I do not think so.” he replied hesitantly in an almost shy voice; never had he kissed a man before, lest an elf. All eagerness seemed to have vanished, making him tremble against the wall when Thranduil bridged the remaining distance between their lips. The firm hold the elf had on his arms and the position he was in stood in high contrast to the chaste kiss that felt like feathers innocently dancing over his lips – it was enough to make his mind spin, to make his body sway.

The elf’s lips were warm and soft against his own and it did not feel alien or awkward, Bard had to admit, letting his eyes fall slowly close. Involuntarily, he parted his lips ever so slightly as he begun to return the caress cautiously, following the elf’s very movements. As their kiss deepened they let their tongues dance with each other and his hands found their way into the Elvenking’s long hair. For long moments, he was playing with the strands that ran through his fingers like silken ribbons. There was nothing strange, nothing awkward in kissing a man, Bard confessed to himself – on the contrary, it felt like the most natural and wonderful thing to do and he cursed himself for his own foolishness.

When Thranduil finally let go of him, Bard’s cheeks were burning brightly – not only from the cold and the alcohol he had consumed. The kiss alone has left a distinct state of arousal behind; Mirkwood’s King did not only have an extraordinary gift with words, but also a natural talent with his mouth – and his thoughts wandered off into a very distinct direction. They made his stomach flutter, made him blush scarlet, even more so when Thranduil’s fingers weaved into his own hands.

“Shall we?” the elf was offering, possibly wondering why Bard still stood against the wall as if he was frozen to the icy ground.

“Aye” Bard nodded as he tried to collect his thoughts, but the soft touches against his hand didn’t help the matter.

It was not long after that they reached the Elvenking’s splendid pavilion, the very place where they have met for the first time when Gandalf had tried to talk some reason into the stubborn Elfking. A futile attempt as Bard soon found out.

Thranduil was hardly listening to the old wizard’s words, dismissing his worries one by one, offering his mortal guest the best wine he had to offer instead and flirting rather shamelessly every time the Grey Wanderer did not look. For Bard, who had suffered greatly from various hardships those past weeks with the rest of the Laketown refugees, the abundance of food and drink was a most pleasant diversion.

He had greatly cherished Thranduil’s company over a few goblets of wine, enjoying the diversity of food the elf had to offer, indulging in different conversations, even long after Gandalf had bid his farewell to them. Ever since this evening, a strange flutter in his stomach occurred when he laid eyes on the elf’s beautiful, almost otherworldly features. Yet he had never even dreamt of walking hand in hand with him through the snow-covered ruins of Dale that now was his own Realm, he who never thought he would ever being able to escape the hardship that his life certainly was before the Dragon came.

 

It would have certainly been a lie if Bard would have said he had not enjoyed the obvious affection that Mirkwood’s King showed. The more time they spent together, the more it was indeed to his liking and soon he found himself equally attracted to the handsome elf. Yet, he truly never spun his thoughts any further, at times he even tried to push the most innocent ones to the back of his mind.

Often had he heard rumors in Laketown that male relationships between elves are naturally much more accepted, not frowned upon at all – the very reason probably why the Thranduil acted without hesitation and shame around him, flirting with him openly, not caring if anybody saw it or not. For the race of men it was different altogether – it was something that was whispered upon on the quiet. Disgusting. Awkward. Sinful - those words were usually among the hateful gossip.

Wouldn’t it have been for the ale he had consumed throughout the night, Bard would not even have dared to touch his friend and ally in such a shameless and possibly even inappropriate manner. That was how he definitely would have called his own blatant actions.

Yet there he was, standing in the middle of the Elvenking’s spacious pavilion, his cheeks all flushed from the kiss alone, his trousers distinctly too tight at certain places.

Bard was watching Thranduil’s handsome face and his slender fingers as he poured himself another goblet of wine with an incredible elegancy. Every motion was arousing itself and his own desire grew with every passing minute, but still slight notes of despair and worries mingled in his lust-veiled mind. He knew where this would end, he wanted it, craved the elf’s touch in a way he had not desired to be touched in long years ever since his wife had died.

Yes, he wanted indeed all what the beautiful Elvenking had to offer, but his own worries nearly overwhelmed him and he felt all of a sudden entirely sober again. And nervous. Inwardly, Bard let out a heavy sigh upon his foolishness. He was close – so very close and about to ruin everything. That was at least what he thought.

“Would you mind?” Bard asked calmly as he came to stand beside the elf, pointing towards one of the empty goblets.

“I think you had your fair share this night, don’t you think?” Thranduil replied with a husky laugh. Whilst he was used to his own potent wine, Bard was not, and whilst he indeed cherished the pleasant effect of another being a little affected by the alcohol, he certainly had no interest in having the man drunk and wasted between the sheets.

“Aye, I thought so, too” Bard answered in honesty. “But now it feels as if another glass would not do any harm.”

Actually, he had thought that his voice sounded entirely indifferent, but apparently he was mistaken as the elf’s next words clearly proved.

“Such nervousness all of a sudden?” The Elvenking asked softly, furrowing his brows. Gently, he brought his free hand to the small of the man’s back, touching him softly through the fabric.

“Aye.” Bard simply nodded, averting his eyes in embarrassment. The fact that he was an open book to read for the Elvenking made him slightly uncomfortable and he wished it would be different.

“Why is that?” Thranduil inquired with a gentle smile. “Have I said, have I done something to earn your disapproval?” A fierce shake of the head was the first answer Bard gave and he almost regretted his words as hurt flitted briefly over the elf’s face.

“No. Of course not. Well.. I’ve never been..” he stammered rather helplessly.

“Now come on, don’t take me for a fool.” the elf interrupted him with a hearty laugh, taking a large sip from his goblet. Simultaneously he let his eyes roam over the man’s handsome face. “The kiss was rather exquisite.”

“I never would! I AM serious, Thranduil.” Bard stated, his voice distinctly affected by the situation and embarrassment accompanied every word he had spoken. It made him feel uncomfortable, and worse: he feared for the elf’s reaction. Mirkwood’s King, who probably could have anybody he desired with a snap of his fingers should care about this? “I have never done this before, I have never even kissed another male before” he confessed looking down at the fur-covered floor.

“Oh.” Thranduil’s eyes widened in an instant. Actually, he had not given this detail even a single thought beforehand, everything between them had seemed so straight-forward – until now. He felt truly sorry for the entire situation and the unease the man certainly felt.

“Forgive me, I simply have not expected it as you acted so comfortably – so naturally - around me.” he said with an apologetic smile, bringing his finger under Bard’s chin to make him look up at him again. “But I am glad that you have told me, Bard. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us, don’t you think? I desire you. **_YOU_**. No matter if you are untouched or not.” Thranduil added before he placed a brief but affectionate kiss onto Bard’s forehead, his nose and lips.

It had been long centuries ago that he last bedded someone untouched as it was such an incredible rare gift among the immortal race of the Eldar. Sacred it was indeed - a special gift, one that he promised to cherish and respect in every way possible this night. But before that, he had to make certain that this – everything what he had so often dreamt about those past days, was truly what the man wanted.

“We do not have to do anything this night, Bard. We can simply sit down and talk if this is it what you would prefer.” He whispered, before he kissed him gently on his lips.

“Nay, we do not have to, but what If I want to?” Bard replied, determination audible in his voice. His mind spun, his body trembled – it was nearly impossible to form a single coherent thought. Of course he wanted this, more than words could ever tell. In secret he had desired it ever since he had laid his eyes upon the great King of the Elves for the first time. Thranduil only nodded, awaiting the man to continue. “See – that is exactly where my problem lies.” Bard resumed. “The kiss alone left me breathless, aroused, you have ignited something in me that I have not felt for long years, something that I never imagined to feel for another man. But here I am, craving your touch, longing for another kiss, to touch you myself. But I do not know anything about it from personal experience…”

In fact the elf was deeply moved by Bard’s honest words. “Worry not, I won’t do anything that is not to your liking, nothing that might make you feel uncomfortable. A word from that pretty mouth of yours and I will stop whatever I am doing. Agreed upon?” Thranduil asked with a warm and honest smile.

The elf’s offer made him smile in return, made his heart leap faster against his chest – for some reason he had not expected this from the proud King that could be so utterly cold and scheming. There was so much understanding and affection in the elf’s words that he was entirely taken aback, lost for words.

“Aye.” was all he managed to answer, looking deep into Thranduil’s shining blue eyes.

Before Bard could think any further, the elf’s arms were around his waist all of a sudden, pulling him into a tight embrace with a strength the elf possessed that he had almost forgotten about. Those soft, almost feminine features of the elves were entirely misleading, and all too often it was forgotten that most of them were fierce warriors with battle-steeled bodies, their King no exception. Bard wasn’t extraordinary small himself – in fact he was over the average height among the race of men, but Thranduil was still several centimeters taller than he was, having to bend down to kiss him. Gently one of his hands brushed against Bard’s burning face, his thumb travelling lightly over his cheek-bone before he leaned in closer to claim the man’s lips in an almost chaste kiss.

“I desire you – in every way possible.” Bard heard the elf whisper only moments before he deepened the kiss cautiously, weaving his slender fingers into Bard’s dark strands and involuntarily, his own hands followed the elf’s movements, bringing one arm around his waist, and the other to his neck, pulling him into the caress.

Whereas the kiss against the ice-cold stone-wall had been heated, filled with desire and passion, this was breathtakingly sweet, but not less arousing. With every moment that passed, Bard’s hesitation began to vanish and he lost himself entirely in their sweet kiss. Not soon after he found his eyes flutter shut, letting out distinct moans against the Elvenking’s lips as he returned the endearments with the same breathtaking eagerness, exploring his mouth with his lips and tongues. Never had he even imagined that a single kiss could ignite such wanton need within him – but Thranduil managed it for the second time this very night, making him moan repeatedly under their kiss – it almost was as if the elf smiled against his lips each time he gasped.

“So do I… in every imaginable way.” Bard breathed after they have broken the kiss, both gasping for air with a dreamy expression on their faces. Bard’s voice carried already the distinct notes of arousal, and a shiver crawled down his spine as their eyes met.

Thranduil’s lips curled into an affectionate and honest smile. For the briefest of moments, the sight alone made Bard tremble, admiring the beauty of the elf – no not of the elf of **_his_** elf. He could easily loose himself in Thranduil’s shining eyes, staring almost mesmerized into his face, taken aback by everything that had happened between them (which was not much, but so much more than Bard had ever thought of).

However, it was Thranduil’s alluring voice that tore him out of his staring.

“Then, come.” he suggested softly, offering his jewel-adorned hand to the man.

**~~**

By now, Bard was entirely glad that Thranduil had refused to offer him another goblet of his potent wine, the situation he found himself in was enough to make his mind swirl – from excitement and from the alcohol he had previously consumed. Cautiously, he allowed the Elvenking to lead him to another part of the pavilion that was separated from the rest by heavy velvet curtains. The knowledge what lay behind made him swallow hard and the grip on Thranduil’s hand increased – he was no virgin to the arts of love, but right now with the elf beside him, he truly felt as if he was fifteen – and clumsily inexperienced - again.

In silence he cursed – himself and his ridiculous behavior, hadn’t he dreamt in secret about this to happen? Hadn’t he looked upon Mirkwood’s proud king with strange fascination and inexplicable longing ever since their first meeting? Aye, he indeed had – more than once.

Now there he was – holding hands with this ethereal creature, who gave the promise to cherish him, love him throughout the night. His heart leaping violently against his chest - if he wanted or not, there was little he could do against his own excitement and the nervousness.

Thranduil’s eyes trailed leisurely down him, and he affectionately complimented him with a smile, sensing the slight unease of the man who would soon become his lover. “Your innocence is charming, YOU are extraordinary charming, Bard”

“Am I?” Bard inquired in astonishment, raising one of his eyebrows in disbelief and blushed ever so slightly. His gesture was instantly rewarded with a soft chuckle from the elf.

“Yes, you are! Believe me.” Thranduil said with a warm smile and soon soft fingers brushed against his soon-to-be lover’s cheek, against his lips to underline and strengthen those words until Bard returned the elf’s genuine smile with a little hesitation.

Finally, Thranduil pushed the heavy velvet curtains aside and behind lay indeed – for a provisional home – extraordinary luxurious bedchamber that was painted in golden shades by countless candles. Bard’s eyes widened as his gaze travelled through the room – the love for details was incredible among the elves and knew apparently no limits. When his gaze came to rest on the spacious bed that was covered with dark-green silken sheets and numerous cushions, Bard gasped again, his cheeks burning brightly red by now.

He – now King of Dale, he who naturally was so self-assured and straight-forward with everything, around everybody now acted around Mirkwood’s King like an innocent maiden. Blushing. Trembling. It was a ridiculous foolishness. And Bard cursed his foolish self.

Thranduil lifted a curious eyebrow but remained quiet for a while, watching his soon-to-be lover in silence not to startle the man who seemed to adsorb every detail of his bedchamber further. It made him smile in return; no matter if Bard wished to believe it or not, it was his innocent nature in this matter that he found utterly charming, alluring – he who had never touched a mortal man himself.

But, after all, their needs, their desires and not last their bodies couldn’t be so very different, could they? Thranduil mused to himself as he shifted his position, now coming to stand behind Bard. With a gracious smile he sneaked his arms around his waist, pulling him close against his chest.

“Now Bard, come on, I won't ravish you right here and now, although I have to admit that this very thought is surprisingly attractive." The elf laughed heartily against his skin, just before he began to trail soft kisses against Bard’s neck, brushing his dark hair to one side. Even if those caresses were chaste, even innocent, every single one was answered with an audible gasp or with a soft moan from the man’s rosy lips and inwardly, Thranduil smiled.

He indeed had a weak spot for vocal lovers, always had, yet this man seemed to be **_VERY_** vocal, given the fact that harmless kissing already led to such alluring sounds.

_‘Oh this will be going to be interesting’_ he mumbled to himself, allowing his lips to linger a moment longer than necessary on Bard’s earlobe until he was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath by the man. Everything was just so incredibly arousing and the stoic, often as ice-cold described King of Mirkwood was unable to resist the temptation that originated from the dark-haired man only a moment longer.

With a single motion, he spun him around and caught him in a tight embrace and within the blink of an eye later, he leaned forward until his lips were barely grazing along Bard’s.

“I want you, I desire you, yet I will respect you and your own wishes in every way possible.” Bard heard him say. He closed his eyes when the elf’s soft breath danced across his skin like feathers, and quietly he gasped when Thranduil’s lips brushed chastely against his own.

Bard was truly taken aback by the elf’s gently words, the promise he had given him repeatedly, even if it meant to relinquish control for the moment.

He was of the ancient line of Girion – he usually did not follow, he led.

But how should he led in something he actually had not the slightest idea about? Additionally he highly doubted that Mirkwood’s proud King would ever allow such a thing to occur, yet Bard couldn’t help to think about it. His curiosity was picked, and his mind was rather absent for a moment – he looked right into Thranduil’s shining eyes but looked completely through him, unable to let go of his musings.

It was the elf’s voice that tore him out of the reverie and involuntarily, his body flinched as if he was struck and his hands shook by his sides, trembling from the words alone that Thranduil whispered seductively against his skin.

“I want to feel, to touch you .. as nobody else has ever touched you, make you moan against my lips, against my skin. Feel you, devour you until you scream my name.” The elf breathed and every single word was followed by a gently kiss against Bard’s throat, against his ear, against his lips and soon his head fell backwards, and distinct moans tumbled from his own lips.

Bard was unable to keep quiet any longer, melting under Thranduil's lips and hands alone.

With every touch of the elf, with every hoarsely breathed word of affection his worries finally ceased, being replaced by fierce passion that began to rush through his veins again.

Where his hands had hung idle at his sides only moments ago, they found their way to Thranduil’s back now, running along his spine until they touched the silken skin on the elf’s neck that was not covered by the heavy and restricting robes.

Soon, Bard was completely lost in sensation –those skilled hands were everywhere, as were his own, exploring every inch of the Elvenking’s still veiled body.

Hungrily, Thranduil’s fingers roamed over his own back, groped his buttocks through the trousers that already were too tight at certain places, fidgeting with his garments every once in a while in a futile attempt to pull them off the man.

Bard’s own calloused fingers weaved into the soft strands of the elf’s hair that ran like silk through his hands, bringing their faces even closer together until their lips met in a searing and breathtaking kiss.

They only let go of the other when no air was left in their lungs, and even than it was reluctantly on both sides.

“Gods..” Bard panted hoarsely against the Elvenking’s lips, only to claim them a second later. It was the very first time, that the man took the initiative and Thranduil’s lips curled briefly into a smile that soon got entirely lost in their kiss. It was beyond alluring he found and was grateful that Bard finally seemed to let go of all strange thoughts which possibly had occupied his mind previously. And Thranduil was completely right in his assumption - it was indeed the most natural and wonderful thing to do, he decided, entirely certain that everything that followed would be equally arousing and wonderful.

Bard’s eyes fell shut and he kissed the other as if there was no tomorrow, eagerly exploring the tempting mouth of the elf, until he moaned and gasped loudly against his lips. With a smile he sneaked his hands beneath the heavy robe to touch his soon-to-be-lover, and in his mind he already imagined to press his muscular body against the elf’s heated skin. Bard was entirely unable and unwilling to suppress the sounds that tumbled so freely over his lips, and Thranduil did not seem to care, either.

In truth, Bard had no idea just how charming and sinuously arousing his noises were for the elf – it almost was as if he secretly fell under the spell of those sensual sounds.

The Elvenking had always had a weak spot for vocal lovers – but ‘vocal’ was a slight understatement in regard to Bard. Never before had mere kisses and his touches elicited SUCH fierce responses. Involuntarily Thranduil’s thoughts travelled around the question if this was natural for the race of men or if it was simply Bard’s nature; he had never indulged himself with one of the second born before, not even once. No answer came (of course) – and soon he had entirely forgotten about his musings. All that mattered was the sensation he felt for the new King of Dale, the searing heat that stirred in his loins, the urge to explore every inch of Bard’s skin and body.

“This was wonderful” Thranduil mumbled against the man’s lips, loosening the embrace just so much that he could look into Bard’s dark eyes.

Wouldn’t it have been for the elf’s support Bard possibly would have fallen as his legs grew weak and weaker with every touch, with every kiss, with every affectionately whispered word – the Elvenking had a natural talent with both his fingers and his mouth, knowing exactly how to touch him until he squirmed against his strong body.

Long had it been since last such a fierce desire rushed through him and the last remaining worries were immediately erased, burnt by a searing flame that the Elvenking had sparked.

“I want you.” Bard panted hoarsely against the Elvenking’s lips which immediately curled into a warm and genuine smile. It was the most beautiful smile, and possibly the most honest one too, that Bard has ever seen on Thranduil’s face. However, before the elf could say anything, the man continued to speak, his voice distinctly affected by the overwhelming desire he felt.

“In each and every way possible, in any way you desire me, King of the Elves.” With every word that tumbled now so freely over Bard’s lips, Thranduil’s smile only broadened whereas Bard’s blush only intensified.

“Oh there are many ways, be assured of that King of Dale and I greatly appreciate your eagerness.” Thranduil whispered in return and removed his arms from the man’s waist. Bard groaned reluctantly when he lost contact with the elf’s soft skin, but his frustration only lasted short moments until he realized the true purpose of the elf’s actions.

They have fought with each other’s garments whilst they have passionately kissed but their tight embrace had made it nearly impossible to undress the other.

“It’s not for long.” the elf commented as he searched for Bard’s eyes who only managed to nod as if he was spell-bound by those shining blue eyes. The first thing that was placed aside by Thranduil’s own hands was the heavy crown which certainly was not needed any longer, allowing his hair to flow freely. If Bard was honest, he was glad that it was finally removed; several times he had cursed the crown whilst he had tried to weave his hands into the elf’s hair as they kissed.

Not a moment later, Thranduil’s hands were fidgeting with the lacings of the man’s tunic and soon, the garment lay carelessly on the fur-coated floor. Bard’s hands were not idle, but in contrast to Thranduil he struggled with the intricate fastenings of the elf’s robes. In his desire he was almost tempted to simply tear the annoying fabric that certainly costs a fortune apart.

“’Tis insane!” Bard muttered under his breath, as every garment that fell onto the floor only revealed another layer underneath that was followed by just another layer. “How many more?”

“The last one I fear.” the elf laughed, apparently enjoying Bard’s efforts with his delicate garments.

“You fear? Luckily I’d say.” Bard retorted, finally losing his patience with Thranduil’s kingly robes. It was unfair, even cruel when the elf could touch his nude chest, his back, his heated skin whilst he still struggled with the silken under-tunic.

When the last garment finally fell onto the floor, an audible gasp left his lips. Bard knew that the elf was an experienced warrior, he had even seen him fight only some days ago with his own eyes (and if he was honest, Thranduil had fought like an otherworldly god), yet his fair appearance and those intricate robes made it all too easy to forget. Dark eyes began their journey over the elf’s broad shoulders, down his torso, over the well-defined, muscular chest and soon Bard did not know where to look at first. The Elvenking was truly a magnificent sight to behold. Beautiful. Delicious. Alluring. Without even realizing it, Bard’s lips were already slightly parted in anticipation.

It remained a mystery to Bard how not a single scar graced the ivory skin despite the many battles Thranduil certainly had fought in his long life. They have spoken about those wars of old previously he now recalled, but the elf had been very vague with the information. Bard had only lived a few years in comparison to the elf, yet countless scars decorated his chest, his arms - even his hands from the hard work as bargeman.

Never before has he desired another man in such a way, but Thranduil’s beauty was breathtaking, irresistible, and spell-binding. Absently, his eyes wandered further down, spotting the prominent bulge in the elf’s leggings. Bard swallowed hard, but did not avert his eyes for long moments. The elf had no idea what exactly the man was thinking but Bard still stared, truly mesmerized. Bard’s stomach felt as if a thousand butterflies were set loose, dancing and swirling uncontrolled – he had almost forgotten the beauty of it. Long years he had locked away all treacherous emotions, never had he loved again after his wife had died.

“Stop staring or I might blush like a maiden.” Thranduil laughed, in truth he had stared himself but Bard had been too occupied with his own thoughts to notice it. Their bodies were so alike, yet so very different at the same time; where his skin was flawless (or at least seemed to be), Bard’s torso was decorated with scars beneath the thick, dark hair in contrast to his own, completely hair-less body.

A little to his own surprise, Thranduil was completely fascinated by it and a sudden urge to bury his face in the soft fur, to kiss every inch until the man writhed beneath him, arose. Possibly, Bard harbored the exact same thoughts – but the pointed look on the handsome face and the decent yet captivating blush told Thranduil, it was something entirely different the man had thought.

“I doubt it, Thranduil.” Bard replied teasingly as he brushed his fingertips in an almost shy manner against the elf’s chest. He could imagine many things (and he had imagined a few things those past days), but Mirkwood’s great King blushing like an innocent maiden was certainly not among them.

At first, he had imagined the elf’s skin to be cold like the perfect marble it so much resembled, icy and frosty as Thranduil’s demeanor often was – but he had soon found out to be mistaken. The elf’s silken skin was pleasantly warm, even hot against his fingers. Slowly, Bard’s fingertips wandered over the smooth skin, beginning at Thranduil’s navel, running over the muscles that flexed beneath his skin until they brushed against his nipple. His actions were immediately rewarded by a silent moan from the elf’s rosy lips. The sound was nearly as divine as the touch and Bard smiled broadly, besotted by the ethereal beauty of his lover.

He had never touched a male like this before, yet it felt so natural, so perfectly alright to do so.

“You are beautiful.” Bard commented absently, letting both his hands linger on the smooth skin.

“So are you..” The elf replied softly with a warm smile on his lips. It was impossible to tell if he had bridged the distance between them or if it was the elf, but it mattered not. Bard seemed to melt like the wax of the flickering candles against Thranduil’s skilled lips. His eyes fell close and not a moment later his lover’s arms sneaked around his waist, pulling him closer into the embrace whilst his lips were captured in a possessive kiss.

At first, the elf’s hands roamed over his back but it didn’t take long until they sneaked into his trousers, groping his buttocks rather firmly. Instantly Bard gasped in astonishment accompanied by an almost surprised “Oh fuck..” against Thranduil’s lips.

Unseen by Bard, mischief sparkled in the elf’s eyes. It was rare among his kin that such words were uttered, especially in his presence but the man – now King of Dale after all – literally did not seem to give a fuck about carefully chosen words; very much to his own delight.

Those words were already whispered in heated desire. Somehow the rough touch that stood in such high contrast to the soft skin, to those gentle lips that wandered along his jawline aroused him only further. “Gods. More.” Bard panted without even noticing that he had said something. His mind spun violently when the elf’s lips brushed innocently against his neck, covering every inch of his skin with tiny kisses and absently he tilted his head to the side to give him better access to whatever he desired.

When Thranduil’s lips wandered further down, Bard’s own hands grew bolder, fidgeting with the lacings of the elf’s leggings. He wanted this damn elf so badly, it was incredible and indescribable with words and briefly he still wondered how on earth the elf had managed ignite such a fierce passion within him. The caresses nearly undid him and he was so lost in his silent musings, that he didn’t notice that Thranduil had loosened the embrace. His hands now rested comfortably on Bard’s shoulders and with a smile that would have been better described as a naughty smirk, the elf took one step forward and Bard had no other possibility than to follow his motion until the back of his knees hit the edge of the spacious bed.

And not a second later the startled man was falling into the soft pillows rather ungracefully, assisted by a gentle push from the elf. His fall was accompanied by a soft chuckle from the Elvenking who apparently had planned this all along (not that Bard would had objected, though).

“You could have warned me.” Bard snapped with a hearty laugh, now lying on Thranduil’s silken bed.

“Yes.” Thranduil replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes “I possibly could have – but I would have missed the look on your face. It was priceless.”

“Bastard.” he muttered in weak protest, meeting Thranduil’s gaze.

“For you – always.” The smug smirk that accompanied the elf’s words was divine.

Before Bard could reply anything, Thranduil sank onto the fur-covered floor, gently pushing his legs apart. Bard’s eyes grew wide, and his mind refused to form a coherent thought as the elf’s skilled fingers began to unbutton his trousers. Slowly, one by one. Never had he even thought about seeing Mirkwood’s proud King kneel, last between his now spread legs.

It was a sight to behold. Divine. Alluring. Spell-binding. Something he would certainly never forget as long as he lived.

Bard drew in a deep breath as his eyes shifted between those slender fingers and the shining eyes that sparkled in the candle-light. He simply couldn’t look away as it was the most beautiful and enticing sight he had seen for long and often lonely years.

Bard had no idea HOW Thranduil managed to constantly avoid to touch his arousal through the fabric whilst he did undo the lacings and a frustrated sigh left his lips – it was just so cruel, those soft fingers were so maddingly close, yet so far away. Briefly, Bard was tempted to push is hips upwards, ‘accidently’ brushing his erection against the elf’s hand but he refrained the urge to meddle in his lover’s affairs.

“Please …?” he asked softly, his breathing already slightly uneven. Actually Bard was not even certain for what exactly he had asked, begged even. Something. Anything. The world.

And Thranduil obliged - soon after, his trousers fell on the pile of clothes next to the bed and the elf’s hands wandered up and down his thighs, still not even attempting to touch him where he desired it most.

Even if it would be through the last remaining piece of clothes. EVERYTHING would be better than this cruelty, this madness.

Thranduil was most definitely doing it on purpose. And it was driving Bard absolutely mad – with frustration and desire. It was teasing - nothing else, and it made him nearly lose all remaining senses.

“Please..” the repeatedly whispered words nearly fell automatically from his lips and apparently it was exactly what the elf wanted to hear. With a dazzling smile on his lips he resumed his actions, adding Bard’s underwear to the pile of clothes and stripping himself free of his own leggings that were distinctly too tight already.

“GODS.” Bard gasped, shamelessly staring right between Thranduil’s legs with wide eyes - an odd combination of worries and anticipation mingling in his head. He had no idea what indeed he had expected to see, but somehow the size of the elf’s erect cock was frightening. After all he was completely innocent, a virgin in these matters and that was big indeed.

_‘THAT can hardly fit…’_ it ran repeatedly through his mind, and the mere thought made a shiver crawl down his spine. Bard couldn’t exactly say that he had found other men’s private parts attractive until now, yet he stared with fascination, truly mesmerized by the perfection.

It was as if Thranduil had read his very mind, Bard thought. “Do not worry, meleth nîn _(my love)_ .. I will take my time with you.” he heard the elf say, an understanding smile gracing his handsome face. “I have said I will cherish you this very night, and if you wish I will say it another ten times; I will keep my promise, be assured of that Bard. Well - under the condition that you begin to use this bed properly.” he added with a smirk.

Until now, Bard’s spread legs still hung from the edge of the bed, his feet touching the furs on the floor, Thranduil kneeling right between them.

“Aye.” Bard replied with a husky laugh, blushing a little. “I think I can manage this.” His words were followed by a shift of his position towards the middle of the bed. Somehow he felt utterly exposed under the Elvenking’s intense, almost hungry stare that followed every movement of his body.

There was something feral, something predatory, something utterly demanding in those sparkling blue eyes that was breathtaking and definitely has never been there before.

“You are beautiful.” Thranduil complimented him as he climbed onto the bed in a graceful and fluid motion, until he came to rest between the man’s slightly parted legs, sitting on his haunches. “Beautiful … Desirable … Spell-binding…“ the elf whispered seductively. With every word spoken he crawled over the man’s body in cat-like movements. When his monologue was finished and his lips were only inches away from Bard’s own, the man’s cheeks were burning red from the words Thranduil had said.

He did not even have to touch an inch of his body to make his stomach flutter. To let the butterflies dance again. The elf simply had a most natural gift to undo him with everything he did.

“Enchanting … Alluring … and all mine tonight.” Thranduil whispered against the man's lips with a seductive smirk. Only then, he shifted his weight from his arms onto Bard’s body and instantly this action was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath, followed by a loud moan when their erections touched.

A million thoughts swirled through Thranduil's head, but he refrained to speak them aloud.

“Tell me, you want this, Bard.” Thranduil murmured in sheer affection, love and adoration shining in his eyes. He wished to hear those words, yet he was impatient beyond measure. And as often, his impatience won; not even a second later he caught the man’s lips in a searing kiss before Bard had the chance to reply.

But he did not even desired to speak a single word.

Not now.

Not with Thranduil's strong body lying atop of him. Heated skin against skin. With their lips and tongues exploring each other. Loosing themselves in the sweet pleasures of desire and lust.

_'Gods'_ Bard thought with closed eyes as his fingers found their way into the elf’s hair. The intimidate contact of their bodies and not last their hard cocks rubbing against each other, were already enough to make him squirm, writhe beneath his lover. Every moan that spilled from his lips was swallowed by the elf’s eager mouth and Bard had soon completely forgotten about the rhetorical question. _‘Oh my dears’_ it rushed through the bowman’s mind.

Either Thranduil had decided to dismiss the matter, or Bard’s endless moans and gasps were answer enough. Possibly it was both and he couldn’t remember that anybody in the last centuries had responded so vocally to such rather innocent caresses. They were only the beginning of a frantic night and in secret he was wondering **_HOW_** exactly his mortal lover would react to everything that was about to come.

_'Valar dear, I love it'_ the elf thought to himself when Bard’s hips bucked involuntarily against him. It was arousing beyond measure for Thranduil, yet he never told the other. Most likely, and possibly with good reason he was afraid that Bard might stop – after all, a provisional pavilion hardly swallowed any sounds and they were not alone, either.

Tantalizingly slow, his lips began to trail downwards and very single kiss was followed by his fingertips. Thranduil’s rosy lips ghosted over Bard’s throat, kissing and nibbling the skin until a string of moans filled the air. _‘Good’_ the elf murmured to himself with a broad smirk against Bard’s skin.

Where his touches and kisses had been gentle at first, he began to bite the man’s skin a little more. It was enough to make Bard writhe helplessly beneath him, and the grip he had on the elf’s waist tightened automatically.

“More.. please..” Bard already whimpered. His voice was already heavy with arousal when he began to forget the world around him. Thranduil just smirked against his lover’s skin before he repeated his actions, giving more than willingly into his lover’s pleas. His lips wandered from the skin behind Bard’s ear, down his stubbly throat until he reached Bard’s collar-bone which was apparently an extraordinary sensitive spot. As soon as his tongue flickered against it, another string of moans tumbled freely from Bard’s lips, his body trashing uncontrolled.

It was impossible not to realize **_WHAT_** exactly his lover enjoyed, what made him go wild between the sheets – and it was the greatest compliment Thranduil could ever think of. Long years had it been since he last had felt such a fierce and searing desire for another.

When they had begun their little game of flirtatious looks and secret smirks he had not even dared to imagine anything like it. Yet there he was: slowly falling under the most seductive spell, loosing himself in the throes of passion – with a mortal man.

Without giving his idea a second thought, he bit down hard right above the collar-bone until Bard yelped in pain and pleasure, aching his back against the mattress and catching a handful of the elf’s hair into his hand.

“You bastard.” Bard muttered in weak protest, not being entirely certain if he despised Thranduil’s actions or if they only pushed him closer towards losing the last remains of sanity.

Probably, it was the latter – and the fake apologetic smile the elf offered did not help. Thranduil claimed his lover’s skin again, desire and lust dancing in his eyes until Bard’s entire body quivered in sensation, tiny droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. A prominent mark would grace the skin on the morrow, but neither of them had the dignity to care anymore. Mirkwood’s King looked like the most innocent creature on earth with his silken hair and flawless skin; but those rough caresses stood in high contrast to his alluring appearance. And maybe it was exactly what was so beyond alluring, Bard mused with his lust fogged mind.

A little to Bard’s own surprise, the elf’s fierce display of passion only aroused him further. Never had he thought to enjoy being bitten until blood almost spilled from his skin. But he had never even thought about being bedded by a male either, last a wicked and naughty elf. Those skilled lips against his heated skin made a quivering mess out of him within minutes.

For Thranduil it soon developed into an extraordinary thrilling game, namely: _‘Which caresses result in the most wonderful responses from my mortal lover?’_  

It was incredible just how many different nuances of silent whims, moans and heated gasps he could elicit from Bard’s rosy lips and it took a lot of self-restrain not to push the matter but take his time with him.

_‘If this already makes him almost come undone….’_ Thranduil mused but did not dare to spin his thoughts any further; otherwise it would be him who would come undone within moments.

When his lips encircled one of the already hardened nipples, Bard’s hips bucked on impulse. It was futile to fight his body’s response to anything Thranduil did; but, after all, he had millennia of experience where Bard had exactly none. The elf had a natural gift to make him moan in pleasure (even if he did not much until now), to make his world spin, his stomach flutter as if he was a teenager again.

“Thranduil...” He whispered again, weaving his hands into the elf’s soft hair, almost pushing him downwards into a very distinct direction. A little to his surprise, the elf allowed the motion and it even felt as if he was smiling against his skin. Bard was completely at a loss, impatience growing deep within him.

Those worries he had harbored were subsided by wanton need; he wanted to feel his lover, every inch of him, he desperately desired to feel him INSIDE him, fucking him into oblivion until stars would explode before his eyes.

Bard was not submissive by nature - quite the contrary – but he would gladly submit to the immortal and fair creature hovering above him. If he would only claim him, fuck him until his vision blurred.

_‘GODS’_ the mere thought made him tremble, a visible shiver rushing from his head to his toes. When the elf’s tongue trailed downwards, his eyes always directed upwards to meet his own, Bard’s vision blurred indeed. Almost lasciviously he stretched his muscular body beneath the elf, rising his hips ‘accidently’ that his erection brushed against Thranduil’s chest.

“You did this on purpose.” The Elvenking commented with a genuine smile as his tongue darted out to encircle the man’s navel until Bard’s hips bucked again accompanied by a silent moan. Eliciting those wonderful, needy whimpers from the quivering man beneath him nearly seemed enough for the elf – he could literally spend hours doing nothing else than this. Giving Bard what he wanted, what he desired – making him twist and moan in pleasure until he would spill himself in the heated throes, at best right in his mouth.

Despite all the power he held within his realm, Mirkwood’s King had seldom felt more powerful than in this very moment.


	2. Chapter 2

*

**~~**

Bard gasped in awe and astonishment as he absorbed the sight the Elf-King presented with his long hair fanned out across his own chest, how the blond strands merged with his own dark hair, how those slender fingers played absently with it as if it was the most precious thing on earth. Thranduil seemed to be strangely fascinated by his body hair, something Bard had never expected to occur; more the contrary. At first he had even thought that the elf would be repulsed by it, no he was even certain about it. Gladly, none of it was the case. With a smile, Bard let his eyes roam over the elf’s body, his face - it was his the radiant smile, the almost dreamy expression in his shining eyes that sheer took Bard’s breathe away.

Thranduil was truly a sight to behold, and somehow Bard still couldn’t believe that this was actually happening; at times, he tried to collect his thoughts but he had to admit soon after, that he utterly failed (not that he had tried too hard though). His mind spun, his body trembled and quivered already, even if nothing truly had happened between them until now. Aye they have kissed, they have undressed each other and touched the heated skin of the other – it truly had been wonderful. It was the certainty of what was about to come that made Bard’s body quiver in anticipation and desire; he wanted their bodies clash together like a raging winter storm, losing his senses in the elf’s strong arms, kiss him as if there was no tomorrow, taste him and feel him all the same until he couldn’t tell up from down.

Bard did not even know when exactly this had happened, but his impatience grew steadily with every kiss, with every touch that was bestowed on him. For moments it was if the elf could read his very thoughts as a naughty smirk played on the corner of Thranduil’s mouth when their eyes met across the distance.

“I bet you taste amazing.” he heard Thranduil whisper against the skin of his chest as his face sank distinctly lower until his lips were only inches away from Bard’s weeping erection.

_‘Gods please.’_ Bard thought to himself as he swallowed hard, unable to avert his eyes from Thranduil’s rosy lips that were already slightly parted with the tip of his tongue licking seductively along them. “Thranduil…” the man breathed not even knowing if and what he wished to say to his lover. The elf shamelessly played with him, but Bard was beyond a state where he cared – could care. Thranduil had ignited a searing flame which was more intoxicating than the most potent wine could ever be. _‘_ _I have dreamt of this and I still cannot believe what is happening, that this is really happening.’_

For the blink of an eye the elf was equally lost, unable to decide what to do with the gift that lay right before him.

_‘Such a pity’_ he mused absently, pondering his thoughts how to proceed. The temptation to pleasure his lover with his mouth until he would come deep down his throat was strong, but the need to fuck him into oblivion was even stronger. Stronger than anything had been in the past century. A naughty smirk crossed his lips when he had finally decided, just before he took the tip of Bard’s length into his mouth, letting his tongue lick away the first droplets of cum that glistened on its head.

Bard tasted exactly how Thranduil had always imagined the salty air on Arda’s distant shores to taste – alien to some extent, yet amazing, alluring, breathtaking. Something that could be hardly be described by words, at least not with those he knew. Bard tasted much stronger and entirely different than any elf he had ever had the pleasure with. He could easily lose himself in his task, of that Thranduil was certain. In his head Thranduil had already imagined how he would tease his lover with his mouth until the brink of orgasm, pleasuring him until his world spun, until endless moans danced through the nightly air. Bard could barely restrain himself from bucking his hips and thrusting into Thranduil’s eager mouth which was ghosting over his hard erection, licking and sucking ever so gently. And soon, he couldn’t. Control slipped from his mind and body and his hips bucked violently.

Thranduil’s eyes grew wide; he hadn’t reckoned without his lover who apparently had entirely different ideas for tonight. An accidental thrust of the man’s hips, accompanied by a sharp cry and Bard was buried to the hilt in the elf’s mouth. Thranduil had to fight the strong urge to gag upon the sudden invasion, yet he was mesmerized all the same. Bard had lost the control over his body completely as it seemed and Thranduil would have chuckled if his position would have allowed it.

When their eyes met, the elf furrowed his brow delicately but he did not withdraw his mouth a single inch, relinquishing control to his lover for the moment.

If Bard wanted to fuck his mouth, he would gladly oblige even if this scenario had originally never been on his agenda – two could play at this game, he mused, sucking just a little around the length. But somehow the man was at a complete loss, an almost apologetic look displayed on his face, his cheeks burning red in embarrassment.

A little to the elf’s disappointment he stilled his movements, apparently fearing that he had done something utterly wrong with his uncontrolled movements. Thranduil had been right in his assumption in regard to Bard’s thoughts.

A whispered: “Sorry.” left the man’s lips when one of his large hands affectionately brushed over the elf’s hollow cheeks.

Tantalizingly slow, Thranduil allowed his tongue to wander along Bard’s cock until the wet length finally slipped from his mouth.

“There is nothing to be sorry for, Bard.” he replied with a genuine smile until Bard nodded and returned his smile. To himself however, he added with a naughty smirk _‘and you will be more than surprised what will happen next my dear’_.

A man’s cock was not the only part of a body that could be pleasured with his mouth. The mere thought made him mad with desire as he highly doubted that Bard had EVER experienced something alike before. It thrilled I thrilled him to the core and he was beyond curious what exact reaction Bard would display; given the circumstances, Thranduil expected a fierce one.

“Give me one of them.” The elf breathed against the wet cock, pointing towards one of the silken pillows that lay next to Bard’s head with his index finger. “Please.” Another puzzled look was the only comment he received, but Bard obliged and passed him what he had asked for without questioning his suggestion.

“And now lift your hips.” Thranduil demanded softly and again Bard followed his instructions until his arse was comfortably resting on it. In fact, the man had NO idea what wickedness had crossed his lover’s thoughts, but curiosity already sparked in his mind.

“Better.. much better.” Thranduil commented more to himself, studying Bard’s glorious body for long moments; those muscular arms, his hairy chest that rose up and down with every breath he took, the hazel eyes filled with desire and wonder that looked down on him.

_‘Valar, I cannot wait.’_ The words rushed through the elf’s mind as his own desire felt overwhelming all of a sudden, the urge to claim his lover growing with every second that passed.

Yet he knew he must – and he did.

Many things could be said about Mirkwood’s King; imperious, stubborn, ice-cold but being impatient was certainly not among them, a fact that possibly came with his immortality.

With gentle hands he pushed the man’s legs apart and came to sit on his haunches between them, shooting Bard the most beautiful and naughty smirk he had to offer. When his head sunk down again, he allowed the tip of his tongue to flicker along Bard’s entire length before he trailed lower, continuing the journey of his lips and tongue over the man’s testicles until the man’s body jerked in passion.

The words of incoherence simply tumbled from the man’s parted lips, and for moments Thranduil pitied himself that he wouldn’t be able to see his lover’s face for a while.

“GODS. THRANDUIL!” Bard’s threw his head from one side to the other as the elf’s tongue drew tiny circles across the most sensitive and intimate parts of his bodies.

It was insanity; maddening, arousing as nothing had been in those long and lonely years he had spent in hardship. So easily could he lose himself in the sensation the elf was offering that he was almost ashamed of himself, being a quivering mess already. Desperate and wanton. Shameless even!

The smile and the twinkle in the elf’s eyes went unseen when Thranduil lowered his head even more, cupping the man’s buttocks with both of his broad hands, squeezing them until Bard yelped again.

“Thranduil what even …?!” Bard managed to choke out in a mixture of astonishment and utter disbelief. The elf could hardly mean to do THAT, could he? The man’s breathing was heavy, the following words nothing more than a whisper when the elf parted his cheeks further. “You can’t…”

Bard had to admit that the thought alone was thrilling to the core, especially with the elf’s gift with his lips and tongue, yet shame and something indescribable mingled with his excitement. Somehow it seemed to be so utterly wrong.

Never before had he experienced something like this, not even thought that anybody would do such frivol and naughty things. _‘One simply does NOT do such things?!’_ it rushed repeatedly through his lust-fogged mind. Maybe his thoughts were foolish, stupid even but he couldn’t help himself to feel the way he did, these parts of the body had been always neglected, treated as a taboo; at least it had been like this with the race of man.

Maybe, after all, there were indeed subtle differences between men and elves?

Bard’s musings were interrupted by Thranduil’s strong voice. “Of course I can. And I will.” The elf commented as if it was the most natural thing on earth to do.

And maybe it was? Bard didn’t have an answer for his own questions and he refrained from fighting his lover (not that he would have had a chance though).

_‘Wicked elves’_ was all he managed to think, inhaling sharply, looking down in strange fascination. Wasn’t he also curious? Didn’t he wish to experience everything the elf was willing to give that very night? Aye – for nothing more he wished, his exposed body already trembling with excitement.

Experimentally, Thranduil dragged his tongue up between Bard’s parted cheeks and the man nearly lost his senses.

“Oh fuck.” it spilled from his parted lips – nothing like this had he ever felt and it made his mind spin. The soft yet firm touch, a divine wetness, the tickling breath against his heated skin. When the elf repeated his motions in the other direction his body jerked and he bit his tongue not to scream aloud. It was odd – he had never been extraordinary loud during the act of love but now he seemed to be the most vocal lover on earth. And there was nothing he could do against it; slowly he came undone by his lover’s skilled tongue alone.

And what Thranduil was doing to him was only the beginning – the tip of the elf’s tongue swirled against his entrance, only to be withdrawn a moment later. Over and over again.

The attempts to hold back his moans and gaps were futile; within moments a string of moans escaped his bruised lips and it was all encouragement the elf needed. Eagerly, he began to suck and nip at Bard’s entranced, pinching inside with the tip of his tongue when the man’s body jerked.

_‘Noisy is truly an understatement’_ Thranduil mused with half-lidded eyes, losing himself in the act of giving pleasure. Yes, he could be utterly demanding and dominant, given the other preferred it that way but there was also a different side to him which only a few have ever had the chance to witness. Caring, attentive and loving.

The noises Bard made were so loud that the elf was certain the entire camp could hear his lover, the curtains hardly swallowed any noises. It was divine. It drove Thranduil mad with desire. And it made his caresses become more wanton, more eager.

Maybe he should indeed tell his beloved to shut up – but he couldn’t. He simply could not!

Bard’s mind refused to form a coherent thought when the elf’s tongue drove repeatedly inside him, fucking him open in the most glorious way imaginable. He closed his eyes in bliss, never in his life has anybody touched his most private parts, never had he thought anybody would kiss him THERE!

It felt incredibly magnificent how the elf’s tongue slid in and out – over and over again – until his hands clenched the silken sheets beneath him.

“Thranduil .. please .. more.” Bard panted, his breath hitching, his voice heavy with arousal. He moaned and whined, pressing his hips back against the elf’s face in wanton need. Thranduil was too occupied with his ministration to give a proper, vocal answer to the man’s request. However, there were other ways to fulfil Bard’s hoarse pleas. Another few thrusts with his tongue had to be sufficient for the moment the elf decided, withdrawing his mouth momentarily from the entrance. Within seconds, his tongue was exchanged against a slick finger that easily slipped inside the warm and wet heat. Bard gasped aloud and his hips pushed upwards on their own accord when his ring of muscle clenched around Thranduil’s knuckle.

_‘I could come from this alone’_ he thought to himself, as one of his hand found its way into the elf’s hair. Thranduil had a hard time to continue with his ministrations with the writhing man.

Actually, it was a tragic dilemma he faced. It was sheer impossible to prepare his lover properly when the man tossed and turned with every movement he made, yet he did not wish to hinder him in his glorious thrashing. The fierce display of emotion was irresistible, those moans and gasps like music in his ears. Those little pants and whines, the exaggerated inhale of breath, Bard’s twitching legs besides him – it sheer undid Mirkwood’s King.

“FUCK.” Bard hissed when the digit was buried inside his channel completely.

“Oh such dirty words.” Thranduil replied with a chuckle, curling his finger deep within the velvet heat. In secret he searched for the hidden gland that would surely catapult Bard finally into oblivion. “I fear I enjoy to hear them.” he added, brushing ‘accidentally’ against the man’s prostate. And he was not mistaken. The man’s reaction was intense, even more than he had anticipated. Bard threw his head from one side to the other, his movements accompanied by repeated moans of his name.

_‘Delicious’_ Thranduil mused, watching his lover closely.

“What the hell was THAT?” Bard exclaimed in astonishment, completely unaware of all the pleasure spots that seemed to be hidden deep within his body.

“Something you apparently have greatly enjoyed.” The elf commented with a twinkle in his shining eyes, brushing his fingertip against Bard’s prostate again.

“GODS.” the gasped in reply, his entire body jerking uncontrolled. “I .. I .. What?!” Never in his life had he felt anything like this and he did not even know where it came from all of a sudden. Bard was curious, his eyes searching for his lover’s gaze.

“Every male has this hidden spot of pleasure, Bard.” Thranduil enlightened his lover with a smile. “It is where your prostate lies and can only be stimulated in this way. Believe me, it’s something you want to experience again and again, something you will never forget.” And just as he was finished, he curled his finger again, aiming at the hidden nub. Of course, Bard squeaked again in delight.

_‘Oh Valar forbid this is divine’_ There was a lust in Mirkwood’s King which he had not felt in many years, wanton need, fierce desire, a passion that couldn’t be described with words. The urge to claim him, to fuck him was almost irresistible. But as innocent as Bard was he couldn’t – at least not without further preparation.

“You will excuse me.” Thranduil whispered and withdrew his digit from Bard’s entrance, shifting his position until his arm could reach down beneath the bed. That his lover was not happy about the loss of contact the annoyed and impatient groan told as much – but there was no way to prepare him properly without any lube.

Bard’s curious eyes rested upon him, no matter what he did; it almost seemed as if the man was entirely intrigued by now. His lover seemed to be truly innocent, a fact that Thranduil found utterly charming, even if he did not comment on it aloud. At least not right now.

“Oh well – yes, this makes sense” Bard commented as the elf showed him a little phial which he had kept hidden beneath the bed. The blush that followed his words was instantly; even more so when the elf coated his fingers lasciviously with a generous amount of oil.

Bard gasped and stared unable and unwilling to avert his eyes. Actually it was nothing special but for him it was an utterly sensual display how Thranduil coated his slender fingers with the liquid – he simply had to watch. Soon the sweet and pleasant scent of roses and lavender tickled his nose, danced through the dimly lit room. Strong yet subtle in its nuances.

A fierce tremor rushed through his entire body, Bard knew what was about to come – it excited him, it thrilled him. And it worried him alike.

He had heard the worst tales in Laketown’s taverns late at night; about severe injurious that the act could entail, ruined bodies and other nightmares. Even about elves that stole little children from their mothers’ beds to offer them to their gods – it was nonsense and Bard had never paid those rumors even a second thought. But now they were in his mind and he couldn’t explain why all those foolish things resurfaced.

It was ridiculous. The King of the Elves had been nothing but gentle with him so far, so much more than he had ever dared to hope for. Bard even felt guilty for his previous assumption of the elf being a selfish lover – Thranduil actually was everything he could have ever wished for. Loving. Attentive and understanding. Caring. Even sweet at times.

“What is it?” The elf whispered giving him a quizzical look as he noticed Bard’s mental absence.

“I do not know.” Lied Bard, his voice affected by a certain nervousness. It was not a lie but it wasn’t the entire truth either and he hoped the matter would be settled with this.

But he was mistaken.

“I do not think so.” Thranduil raised a delicate eyebrow when he stilled the movement of his fingers instantly. Bard was beyond easy to read and he did not believe him a single word.

“Well…” the man began to confess with a sigh, meeting the elf’s gaze across the distance. There was no way he could fool the millennia old creature. “Honestly. I do not know what to think anymore, Thranduil. I am curious, even wanton and desperate for your touch. Yet I am afraid – at least a little. I am sorry.” He said as an apologetic look flitted across his face.

_‘I thought as much’_ Thranduil thought to himself and with an understanding smile he took both of his lover’s hands in his own, rubbing the palms with his slick thumbs. His words of reassurance were soft, nothing more than a whisper against Bard’s warm skin. “Do not apologize for how you feel. Ever. Worry, even fear is only natural, don’t you think? I will try to keep the discomfort as minimal as possible, but I cannot promise you not to feel any pain. Even if I wished to I can’t promise you this.”

Bard nodded – it was the only answer he could muster, completely taken aback by Thranduil’s words of understanding. He had not expected it and he had to swallow several times to remove the lump in his throat.

“Never hesitate to speak your thoughts, your dreams and worries aloud. Tell me to stop and I will.” Thranduil added, finally letting go of Bard’s hands.

“Aye.” The man’s lips curled into a warm smile, even if Thranduil’s offer was the last thing he desired. Bard did not wish the elf to stop. Quite the contrary – he wished to reach those heights of pleasure he had never even imagined, fall under the spell of this otherworldly creature until he moaned and writhed helplessly beneath him. Until he would scream his name in the throes of passion.

Nay, telling the elf to stop was the last thing on earth he wanted even if it meant to endure a little amount of pain. He could cope. He would cope!

“Now come on, I am not made out of glass.” Bard stated in a determination neither of them had expected, desire rushing through him once more as his eyes travelled along the elf’s fair features.

“Your wish is my command.” The elf said in a seductive voice, locking his gaze with his lover. With utter care he slid one of his perfectly manicured fingers a little inside the tight entrance, already drawing little whines and whimpers from his lover’s mouth.

_‘Oh by the gods, you are tight.’_ he thought when his knuckle brushed against the clenching ring of muscles. Bard squirmed upon the sudden invasion, letting his eyes fall shut. “Shh. Relax my love.” Thranduil said as he bent down, whispering against the man’s skin, planting small kisses on his loins, on his chest, playing with Bard’s navel. “Breathe and try to relax.”

Bard tried to obey the Elvenking’s words, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm as the finger disappeared completely inside him. He tried – but failed in the most wonderful way Thranduil thought with an affectionate smile. The silent moans and gasps still fell from his parted lips, assisted by mumbled words of adoration. He worked Bard open, slowly, carefully, never leaving the man’s darkened eyes. Even if it had been many millennia ago, Thranduil had never forgotten his first time; the pain and intoxicating pleasure he had felt in a starlit night. Wonderful was an underestimation – and he truly wished Bard to experience the same heights of pleasure.

Thranduil paused for a moment, giving the man the possibility to adjust to his finger, trying to sooth him with whispered words and gentle touches. “Shhhh, it will be alright in a while, you will see. I don’t want to hurt you but you are so incredible tight.”

Bard could easily believe it – one of the elf’s slender fingers felt like a thick invasion, almost too much to deal with. After a while, his breathing has calmed down and a skilled finger began to push inside the man’s virgin channel – in and out, in and out again, curling within him until Bard squeaked in delight when a certain spot was hit repeatedly. And then the elf withdraw the digit until his lover groaned in annoyance.

“Oh please. Do not stop.” Bard begged upon the loss of contact, opening his hazel eyes again. It felt like glorious, tortuous hours of teasing, severing only one purpose: To completely undo him!

When another finger was added, Bard bit his lower lip and forced himself not to cry out but his body betrayed him as he flinched upon the sudden invasion and discomfort he felt. Words of incoherence fell from his parted lips and he threw his head from one side to the other in a helpless manner. Gods, this was torturous and divine at the same time and it made his world spin.

“Thranduil.. wait.” The man managed to whisper and his lover obliged immediately.

Bard let out a low moan as Thranduil stilled the movements of his fingers for the moment, allowing his lover to become accustomed to the alien touch. Whilst he waited he lost himself in the man’s dark eyes which were almost pitch-black with lust. Thranduil pulled out his fingers; not all the way, but just enough to let Bard feel empty before he thrust back in gently.

“So beautiful, so alluring. And all mine tonight.” The elf commented absently with a seductive smirk as he let his gaze roam over his mortal lover. The dark emerald brought out Bard’s dark hair, highlighted his skin that was painted in the soft shades of gold by the flickering candle-light. It was truly a sight to behold the elf found and he was unable and unwilling to avert his eyes.

“Stop charming me.” Bard choked out, blushing fiercely upon those unexpected words of adoration. Long years had it been that he was last called beautiful – and now those words should of all things come from the Elves’ greatest King? Who was breathtakingly beautiful himself with his almost feminine features? The ivory skin that was not decorated by a single scar?

It was ridiculous – just like everything that had happened this very night. The evidence that the elf truly meant what he just had said was manifested between his legs; standing proud, glistening in the dim light of the candles. Bard swallowed hard – unable to avert his eyes from his lover’s cock in anticipation combined with a little worry. Thranduil was indeed. Big!

_‘Oh my’_ Thranduil thought to himself in silence; all of a sudden the man seemed so shy and flustered that he almost regretted his words. He was quiet for a moment, watching the emotions that played across his lover’s face, before he resumed the actions of his slick fingers. Whilst one hand was busy scissoring him open, the other drew useless patterns all over Bard’s chest, over his stomach, playing with his hardened nipples until he snapped for air.

Every single touch seemed to undo him a little more, the tiny whimpers developed into heated moans, interrupted by gasps and cries when he pressed his fingers steadily inside him, his thumb rubbing across the silken space behind the man’s balls. When Thranduil curled one of his fingers, only touching the secret spot for the blink of a second he was rewarded with a string of endless moans from those sweet and already bruised lips.

“Oh my .. GODS” Bard gasped, clutching to the elf’s shoulders when the tip of another slick finger was inserted slowly. His breath came in shallow gasps and his world turned upside down, knowing his blonde lover tried to be as gentle as ever possible with him – but it did hurt nonetheless. Although he refused to complain, Bard couldn’t hold back anymore, screaming and squirmed upon the additional finger that penetrated him in the most intimate way possible. His breath was uneven, his voice hoarse, tiny droplets of sweat forming on his chest and forehead.

Gods – he ached his back several times upon the alien touch, feeling the elf’s warm fingers against his clenching entrance; despite the discomfort he felt, it was strangely arousing at the same time. Even more so when he lost himself in the shining eyes of his lover who was hovering above him.

Soon, the elf’s free hand rested against Bard’s hairy stomach at least hindering him a little from thrashing. The man had lost control over his body completely when his prostate was stimulated repeatedly – it felt as if he would explode from inside. “Thranduil please…” he whimpered.

“Please what?” the elf breathed against the man’s stomach with a seductive smirk. He couldn’t stop to tease his lover – at least a little. It was beyond obvious for what exactly Bard was begging for.

“More. Please.” He heard the man whisper hoarsely, desire and lust shining from his hazel eyes. “I want to feel you. Completely and entirely, inside me. Please…” Bard confessed meeting his lover’s shining eyes.

Tantalizingly slow, Thranduil shifted his position a little and bent down his head until their lips almost touched. His long hair fell across their faces, acting like a veil to shield them from prying eyes.

“Everything you desire, meleth nîn _(my love)_.” The elf’s sweet voice danced over his lover’s lips just before he claimed them fully and demandingly. Every moan that escaped Bard’s lips was eagerly swallowed by Thranduil’s hungry mouth that shamelessly seemed to explore every inch of his own until he was completely lost.

Carefully, he withdrew his fingers one last time only to push them back into the tightness until his knuckles were enveloped by the clenching ring of muscles. Bard closed his eyes in bliss and gasped against the elf’s mouth, his body flinching as if struck when his lover’s fingers brushed against the hidden gland once more.

Acting on impulse, Thranduil kissed Bard even harder when he finally removed his digits from the stretched entrance and began to position his beloved before him. Actually, he did not have much to do – as if Bard has never done anything else, he perfectly wrapped his legs around the elf’s waist, pulling him closer towards his body.

For Thranduil was irresistibly tempting to comment about the man’s behavior; not that Thranduil would have minded his lover’s desire and eagerness. “Are we becoming a little eager?” he asked, his words accompanied with a soft chuckle.

_‘Fuck your perfect blue eyes, fuck your perfect face’_ Bard thought to himself in silence and only managed to nod as he indeed was. Eager. Wanton. Shameless. Yearning for the elf’s body, his touch that it almost hurt.

Attributes which Mirkwood’s King found utterly charming and arousing alike. Bard was certainly not the only one who was eager. And wanton. Quickly, he coated his erection with a generous amount of oil hoping to keep the pain his lover would feel to a minimum.

“Look at me.” He demanded softly as the tip of his cock touched the quivering entrance for the first time. “And tell me if I should stop, if I hurt you. Immediately.” Their lips almost touched, their fingers were entwined with the other, Thranduil’s weight nearly resting entirely on his own body.

Again, Bard only nodded unable to speak. Unable to think. To oblige.

A genuine yet smug smirk graced the Elvenking’s face as he began to push his cock slowly past the tight ring of muscles, utter concentration shining from his eyes. Were his cheeks actually flushed, at least a little? Bard couldn’t tell for certain in the dim light of the candles but he decided for himself they were. He felt his muscles contract around the elf’s hard sex but he smiled and nodded nevertheless, speaking his consent in silence.

“Oh by the gods.” Bard panted into his lover’s ear, aching his back against the silken sheets as he nearly broke his lover’s hand with his strength. “Oh my.. GODS.” No words were made to describe what he felt in this very moment when his otherworldly lover breached him for the first time. Pain and passion. Pleasure and Fear. Thranduil only smiled – and kissed him with a fierce intensity, moaning into the kiss as he claimed his mortal lover for the first time, inching his erection inside the velvet heat until Bard’s entire body quivered beneath him.

“Fuck. Gods. Fuck” The man swore like a sailor and every word was accompanied by a sharp intake of breath, a tiny whimper or a heated moan. There was pain, brief and intense; divine and breathtaking alike and Bard couldn’t remain silent when Thranduil continued to inch his cock deeper into this body. His hands clenched and unclenched by his sides until his knuckles shone bone-white, gripping the silken sheets in a futile attempt to hinder his body from wincing uncontrolled. A thin layer of sweat was forming on his skin and his heart missed several beats as he felt his channel being stretched further, felt his muscles contract around the elf’s hard and thick erection.

“Too much …Thranduil please.. ” the man whined, trying to flinch away from the sudden invasion but strong hands around his hips kept him securely in place. But indeed, Thranduil stopped his motions momentarily, meeting his lovers gaze.

“Relax and breathe.” He demanded softly, an apologetic expression visible on his handsome face.

Bard nodded and after moments, Thranduil began to push his length inside him ever so slowly and only stopped when he was buried completely within the pulsating heat, giving his innocent lover the time to adjust to him. By now, Bard couldn’t control himself anymore, throwing his head from one side to the other, whimpering in discomfort into the searing kiss.

“It is alright.” The elf whispered soothingly against his lips before he kissed him passionately whilst he completely stilled his movements to allow his lover to completely adjust to the alien invasion.

“Breath and try to relax meleth nîn.” He repeated in a whisper, hoping that his lover would get accustomed to him. “It is only natural that you feel like you do, after all you are untouched.”

With all the passion Bard had displayed earlier it was all too easily forgotten that the man was completely innocent in such matters and hurting him was the last thing he wished for in this very moment. The man swallowed hard but remained silent for the moment, biting his lower lip and bringing his hands to Thranduil’s back.

“You undo me…” Bard finally murmured when the discomfort began to cease, parting his lips with a moan. It was almost as if his entire body was subject to his lover’s warmth and his burning passion, breathtaking and intoxicating beyond measure. He couldn’t remain quiet as thousand shivers rushed down his spin, as his mind went blank for a second. The elf immediately took it as an invitation, pressing their lips together all over again and within the blink of an eye his tongue was in Bard’s mouth, exploring every inch of it in an eager manner whilst began to roll his hips in a slow and steady rhythm. Strong hands came to a comfortable rest on the man’s shoulders, holding him in place when he began to move, withdrawing inch by inch only to push back in the same slow pace. Pulling out only to push inside the tight channel shortly after. In and out, in and out, inch by inch until his lover snapped for air. Thranduil only smiled, entirely taking aback by the divine pleasure he felt whilst he claimed the man as his own. “You are beyond wonderful” the elf whispered against Bard’s ear, licking delicately long the curve of it.

When Bard began to writhe beneath him it was reassurance enough and he increased the pace of his thrusts, letting his hips roll against his lover until the man squeaked in delight. Thranduil didn’t listen to the incoherent babbling that spilled so freely from the rosy lips, focusing on the glorious sensation when his cock drove repeatedly in and out into the welcoming heat. Tight was truly an underestimation – the man was extraordinarily tight, the channel enveloping his cock in the most sensual way possible. _‘Valar forbid.’_ The Elves’ greatest King was completely lost in pleasure,appreciating how perfectly the man fit around him, how much Bard seemed to enjoy himself. Countless moans and yelps that fell from his lover’s bruised lips told him as much and catapulting Bard into heights of pleasure he had never even imagined was all he ever wanted in that very moment. To make him squirm, to let those hazel eyes darken even further until stars would explode.

“You know I’m getting wild when you look at me like that.” Bard heard the elf say in a hoarse tone as he bent down his head again to kiss him, his silken tresses reflecting the firelight as they fell across their face.

Thranduil began to kiss him under the ear and continued down his neck, mouthing along the bristle skin until his lips reached Bard’s collar-bone. His lips were already bruised, glooming distinctly read from Bard’s stubbles, but Thranduil couldn’t care less with his cock buried deep within the velvet heat. Bard was already losing control over his body, begging for more and writhing against the bed; every shallow thrust was rewarded with a hitch of his body, with those little breathy whimpers and passionate gasps that never failed to undo the elf.

“You undo me, meleth nîn.” he complimented his lover as he fucked him into oblivion. It was divine and Thranduil knew he would never tire of those wonderful and delicious sounds his lover made.

Absently, Bard bucked his hips forward to meet the elf’s thrusts, aching his back to increase to friction of his own erection against Thranduil’s stomach. Bard let out a yelp as his lover’s cock hit his prostate again. And Again and again. With every single thrust Thranduil aimed for the hidden gland until Bard dug his fingernails deep into his back. Never – not even once had Bard imagined that sex between two males could be so – intense? Yes, intense was the best word he could find for what rushed through him.

“More.. Please.” He stammered in the throes, interrupted by the elf’s name and snippets of “fuck me” and “harder”. With a naughty smirk Thranduil obliged, concentrating on the task to make Bard moan louder and scream his name repeatedly – making him come undone as he possibly has never come undone before. He was close, so close already himself, overwhelmed by the tantalizing sensation but he fought back his climax – he wanted to prolong their frantic love-making as long as ever possible. Thranduil’s hands were everywhere by now – entangled in Bard’s dark locks, brushing against his hands and arms, fingertips ghosting over the heated skin. The dual sensation nearly killed the man, making his mind numb, making his body quiver with wanton need.

His lover’s confession pushed him almost over the edge.

“Your wish is my command.” Thranduil breathed hoarsely as his thrusts became harder and deeper, just as Bard had desired. Soon they were completely losing themselves in the frantic and rough coupling, kissing and biting each other’s heated skin, letting their fingers roam over the damp body of the other, scratching and pulling. What had started as gentle act of love developed into an almost brutal coupling, which drove both close towards the brink of orgasm.

Bard grabbed at Thranduil’s hair, running his fingers through it, pulling fiercely on it when the elf hit his prostate again.

“Gods, Thranduil, more… please..” Bard panted some more words of incoherence, trashing his head from one side to the other until Thranduil stilled his lover’s movements entirely with a kiss, devouring the eager mouth until both gasped for air. It openly thrilled him every time Bard moaned his name out load and dug his fingernails down his spine, pulled his hair as if it was the most natural thing to do. All insecurity, all hesitation had long vanished – and Thranduil was glad.

“You are wonderful, King of Dale.” Thranduil commented, slowing his movements down to an almost excruciating pace. The protest was instant and Bard’s eyes snapped open, searching for the elf’s eyes.

“I fear I could love you.” was all the elf could say as their hungry gaze met, being entirely lost for coherent words, mumbles which were breathed over the bruised lips before he kissed his dark-haired lover fiercely until endless moans danced through the timid night again. They were close, so very close, sparks flaring through their minds, stars already exploding before their closed eyes.

His lover’s emotions, all of them combined, were simply delicious and became even more intense as Bard travelled towards his climax – and there was no holding back for Thranduil anymore.

He knew he wouldn’t last long anymore as he increased the pace of his thrusts once more, forcing his erection completely into the slick and pulsating channel - again and again, biting Bard’s shoulder until he could feel the subtle but unmistakable taste of blood against his lips.

“’Tis is madness!” Bard screamed out in pain and passion but bit on the elf’s lips in return and ecstasy, swallowing the moans and gasps of his lover above him, chanting Thranduil’s name with his voice growing steadily louder until it went high pitched and hoarse.

His cheeks were painted with a captivating blush, his lips swollen and red: “Thranduil, please.” Bard urged as he allowed his fingernails repeatedly sink into the ivory skin of the elf repeatedly, bucking his hips to meet every frantic thrust the elf delivered. Once more the quiet night was filled with heavy sighs and screams of pleasure as their slick and damp bodies moved against each other.

The first stars of orgasm exploded before his closed eyes but Bard forced them open - he wanted, NEEDED to see his beautiful lover, this otherworldly and fair creature, his muscular chest which was so perfectly trained from the years of battle and, those sparkling blue eyes and last but not least to see the pleasure the proud Elvenking found as he fucked him restlessly with half-lid eyes.

“GODS YES, THRANDUIL.” The man screamed as their gaze met again. Mirkwood’s King in the throes of passion was truly a sight to behold – never had the elf been more beautiful, Bard thought as his eyes roamed freely. All icy demeanor, all regality has fallen from his handsome face, a thousand emotions flitting across it; for Bard it nearly was as if he saw him for the very first time in all his enchanting glory.

Another hard thrust, another hit against his prostate and Bard couldn’t hold back anymore, losing himself in those sapphire eyes, his body thrashing and writhing beneath the elf, clutching to his strong shoulders for physical support. Endless moans and cries of passion pierced through the tranquil night as he came undone in his lover’s arms. His touch etched into his memory, his scent burned right into his mind, his soft voice would possibly remind him of this sensual night for the rest of his life.

“Kiss me please.” Bard demanded and his plea was answered in an instant. There was no holding back for Thranduil now, feeling his lover’s entrance clench around his cock, feeling his fingers digging deep and deeper into his flesh - hear the sensual cries of Bard’s passion. It was all the elf needed to be pushed over the edge himself. With a last forceful thrust he spilled himself deep within the tight heat of his lover, feeling the contraction of the man’s muscles around his arousal, claiming his lips in a searing kiss as he collapsed on top of him.

“Oh by the Gods.” Thranduil panted heavily against his lover’s lips as they rode the blissful minutes of their orgasmic aftermath together. “This was wonderful.” He added with a dreamy smile, playing absently with one of Bard’s dark strands. They lay like this for what seemed like an eternity, enjoying the drowsy sweetness of coital post-haze, caressing and kissing until they were in need for air, Thranduil’s blond hair acting as a golden veil against the flickering candle-light. He stayed buried deep within him as he didn’t want to move or withdraw from the warmth he felt around his softening sex.

“Aye it was.” Bard replied equally exhausted, but was slowly awaking from the bliss of orgasm. Lazily he stretched beneath the elf, at least as much as the position they still were in allowed. He was tired. Exhausted. Wrecked – and decorated with countless passion marks.

After long moments of whispered endearments and soft caresses, Thranduil placed a last affectionate and lazy kiss onto Bard’s lips before he finally rolled off the exhausted man whom he had devoured in every way possible. A dreamy smile hushed over his lips as he delved into the blissful memory of their encounter, savoring the proximity of his lover beside him. Only their soft breathing interrupted the peaceful quiet of the night, each of them lost in their very own thoughts, their fingers entwined, and the silken sheet covering the lower part of their bodies.

It was Bard who finally broke the tranquility. “Thranduil? May I ask you something?” he whispered.

“Of course you may.” The elf said, shifting his position until his head came to rest on his lover’s shoulders. Thranduil had been always one who cherished close contact after a passionate night, snuggling against his lover, feeling his warmth, listening to his heartbeat, to his even breathing. With Bard it was not any different; lovingly, he placed his arm onto his chest, drawing useless patterns across it with his fingertips.

“Was I .. I mean was I loud?” Bard inquired with a certain nervousness. He was almost certain he was but he needed to know for certain and the elf was the only one who could give it to him.

“One could say so, yes.” Thranduil replied with a genuine smile and a dreamy expression on his face, his fingers still playing with Bard’s chest hair. Thranduil seemed strangely fascinated with it, something that Bard couldn’t understand at all but he refrained from commenting on it. Not now.

“Why .. why didn’t you stop me?” he asked, shrugging the elf’s hand off his body. His mood changed immediately and he felt hurt, betrayed even. “Why didn’t you make me shut up?” A sigh of annoyance left his lips.

“Well. How about: Because I liked what I have heard?” Thranduil whispered as he raised his head from his lover’s shoulders to meet Bard’s gaze.

Bard frowned - he didn’t belief the elf a single word. “Do not lie! What about your army?! They, ALL of them must have heard me!” Bard complained, inhaling sharply. The entire situation was becoming beyond embarrassing and the longer he thought about everything, the more uncomfortable he felt. Thranduil could have warned him, made him shut up at least when he had lost himself in the throes of passion. _‘Oh why on earth did you allow it? To mock me? To humiliate me before your kin?’_ he thought with a certain accusation and bitterness, anger sparking in his mind.

“I doubt it, meleth nîn.” Thranduil said in a soothing. Most likely his elves had always celebrated their victory with countless bottles of Dorwinion and were soundly asleep by now. “And even if they have - what of it? What does it matter? Do you think they are strangers to the wonders of desire?” Those words only fueled his lover’s anger even if they were meant to calm him.

“It is embarrassing, don’t you understand?” he cursed, pulling the silken sheets up to his chin before he rolled onto his side, away from his lover, shielding his embarrassment from the elf’s keen eyes. He did not desire to look at him, unwilling to show his devastated state of mind.

For Thranduil it was impossible not to let a slight frown dance over his face; many centuries had it been since he had last enjoyed himself so much. He simply couldn’t understand where Bard’s problem lay.

“Nay, honestly I do not.” Thranduil replied, his voice as soft as the gentle touch of his fingertips against the man’s heated and sweaty skin. Despite Bard’s petulant behavior he wasn’t angry with him but it puzzled him and he didn’t wish for an argument over nothing. “You were beyond wonderful.” He added. With every word he spoke, Bard only inched a little more away from him, but he followed, spooning behind the upset man.

“They will know, everybody will know by tomorrow what we have done this very night.” Bard retorted in an almost petulant manner. If he was honest to himself he had greatly enjoyed every second they have shared between the sheets and now he was about to ruin everything. He didn’t even know why he had the sudden urge to argue against the Elvenking’s kind words; weren’t they the most wonderful whispers that could be said in the aftermath of love? Aye – they were. And Bard knew it – yet he sulked, did even offend his lover on purpose. “They will look at me, judge me, gossip behind my back – it’s horrible, it is disgusting!” he muttered as he brought his hand towards his face to hide the embarrassment he felt.

“Nobody will look at you.” Thranduil tried once more to talk reason into his mortal lover, every word assisted by a tiny kiss on Bard’s neck or a gentle touch. “Believe me when I say, they do not care what I do at night; they never did, they never will. And if rumors should start to spread after tonight, if a single word in that matter should reach my ear, it will be the last one that was uttered for a long time. There will be consequences for it, be assured. And now stop puzzling your pretty head with it and enjoy what remains of this night. With me.” The smile that graced the elves lips was warm and honest, but with his troubled mind, the King of Dale failed to see the beauty of his lover’s words.

Was it mockery he heard? Bard didn’t know with his swirling mind but another word and he would certainly jump out the bed, get dress and simply take his leave. “Stop mocking me, elf” Bard snapped as he finally sat up, covering himself with one of the silken sheets. His legs swung from the bed, his hands hung idle at his side. He couldn’t think anymore, could hardly breath – he was about to ruin everything. Everything had been so special this very night, so kind and affectionate and now everything just seemed dull and upsetting all of a sudden.

“Valar forbid, Bard! I am not mocking you, but loving you! I loved those sounds you were making, how you screamed my name in passion. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. And now please, don’t be ridiculous.” he whispered against Bard’s ear as he came to sit behind him on his haunches, placing both of his arms around his lover’s waist. “Please.” He added softly as he pulled his lover close, feeling the heated body once more against himself.

“I am not ridiculous. It was – it IS humiliating, King of the Elves.” Bard retorted with anger audibly in his voice as he tried to shrug Thranduil’s arms off once more.

The elf had to bite back a chuckle upon this childish behavior. Hadn’t it been beyond evident just how much his lover had enjoyed himself only moments ago? It was odd and hard to understand for Thranduil who was entirely at ease with the situation. It wasn’t the first time they might have heard something, and possibly it wasn’t the last time either. He simply didn’t care.

“Oh yes, you are. VERY ridiculous to be precise. Ridiculous yet utterly beautiful” he stated, letting his fingers slip beneath the covers to touch his stomach. “And now enough of this childish behavior, Bard. We are grown up adults, we have shared the most intimate pleasure only moments ago. Would you please have the dignity to at least look at me?”

His request was met with silence, Bard’s embarrassment apparently ran deeper than Thranduil thought it was ever possible. A heavy sigh left his lips as he tightened the embrace a little further, unwilling to let this night end like this. “What if I am telling you that you were, that you are gorgeous, that I have greatly enjoyed myself – that I cannot wait to fuck you, to hear you moan and gasp again, King of Dale?”

It were the last words that made Bard listen and finally he turned around to meet the elf’s eyes again. “Are you serious, King of the Elves?” he asked in what was nothing more than a whisper, his words filled with utter disbelief, his eyes wide, and his mouth dropped open.

Many rumors had floated through Laketown in regard to the immortal inhabitant of the forest – trickery was frequently among them. Yet never – not even once – their king had betrayed his trust and slowly, Bard’s attitude began to sway.

Could it actually be that Thranduil had enjoyed his whimpers and cries in the throes? Did he not tell him to stop because he liked his fierce display of passion, liked what he had heard? Bard asked in silence as he lost himself in the shining blue of the elf’s eyes. Only love and adoration mingled with worries and hurt shone from them and a wave of guilt rushed immediately through the man. There was a sadness in the elf’s expression he had never seen before and it hurt him equally that he was the very reason for Thranduil’s state of mind. It was the sadness of loss he saw, an emotion he knew all too well since he had lost his wife. Involuntarily, his stomach cringed; what were some moans and gasps against something greater, something that could be the beginning of – love? Actually it was, but he was too blind to see it.

_‘I am sorry’_ Bard wished to say but the words were stuck in his throat.

“By the gods, YES!” Thranduil let out an exaggerated sigh, taking both of his lover’s hands into his own as if he was afraid that Bard could take his leave. “The sounds you made were like music in my ears. They have been the most amazing compliment you could give me, don’t you understand?”

“Well… I don’t know? … I am… sorry.” He finally managed to say. The faintest smile flickered over his face, as he replied in words that were nothing more than a breathed whisper.

Oh just how much he wished to believe in the elf’s softly spoken confessions, dream that there might be another time where they wouldn’t be surrounded by an army of elves that this was the beginning of a relationship. So many things were on his mind that he was completely absent for long moments, a behavior that would **_NEVER_** go unnoticed by the elf, be it lover, friend or foe. The mischievous smirk that graced Thranduil’s lips went unseen by the man who was still deeply lost in his musings.

“Of course they were, King of Dale.” he said, trying to hide his true emotions from his voice. “I fear I am lost – and desperate in more than one way. Desperate to hear them again.” Thranduil was not even certain if his words reached his lover’s ears, but it mattered not. Within the blink of an eye he pulled Bard back onto the bed and not a moment later he was sitting astride of him without giving the man a chance to escape. Both of his large hands were placed on Bard’s shoulders pinning him down to the mattress. As he bent down he whispered seductively: “Tonight.”

“Wh….?!” Before Bard could finish what he wished to say in response, his lover’s lips were dangerously close to his own and Thranduil’s soft breath danced over them. “Will you finally shut up now?” Those words were never said as a question but as demand, leaving no space for debating.

Bard’s eyes grew wide as he watched the elf’s slender fingers began to fumble with his semi-hard erection. Until now he had not even noticed that something had stirred in his loins again. The elf had indeed a natural gift with his lips and hands. But Thranduil could hardly mean it? Bard stared, truly mesmerized and taken aback by everything.

“No.. Noo.. nono you are not about to …?!” he muttered in weak protest and sheer astonishment, searching for the elf’s sparkling eyes when Thranduil moved slowly backwards. Surely, his lover couldn’t? Wouldn’t?

_‘GODS’_ Bard inhaled sharply, his cheeks glowing redder than they ever had. Wicked was truly an understatement for this elf.

But Thranduil only laughed, his voice ringing with mischief as he positioned himself on top of his lover. “About to ride you? I fear I am.” he stated with the most radiant smile he could muster. And Bard had lost his internal battle in each and every way possible, lying beneath the Elves greatest King helpless and defeated.

Willingly.

In the most wonderful way imaginable.

 

 

****THE END****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I hope you have enjoyed this fic and all the smut*  
> **Feedback is always highly appreciated** :)

**Author's Note:**

> *I hope you have enjoyed this fic*  
> **Feedback is always highly appreciated** :)


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